


A Twist of Fate

by rowdyhooligan



Category: Supernatural
Genre: F/M, Metatron is a douche, talk of death and dying
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-17
Updated: 2018-12-17
Packaged: 2019-09-20 20:19:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,934
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17029341
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rowdyhooligan/pseuds/rowdyhooligan
Summary: When Fates steps in, friends and allies can be found in the unlikeliest of places.





	A Twist of Fate

**Author's Note:**

> cross-posted from tumblr: requested by anon: Hey there, if it is OK, could you eventually write a Gadreel x cambion!reader? Like the reader has been tracked down by angels all her life and when Gadreel happens to find her, she just gives up. He can’t just kill her so she’s brought in heaven’s prison and they bond? Then it’s up to you 💞 much love xxxx

Staring out across the ocean waves, you shut your eyes and listened to the water crash against the shoreline, the cry of gulls ringing in your ears. The warmth of the sun was swiftly fading, leaving you with no defense against the cooling air. You didn’t turn to face him, not yet. If this was to be your last night of freedom…of life…you wanted to savor it as long as possible. Of course, there was no delaying the inevitable. 

“You came alone…that’s brave of you. Or foolish.”

The angel, knowing that he’d been discovered, stepped forward into the dying light, face grim as he approached. Glancing over at him, your eyes went to the angel blade in his hand, a wry smile on your lips. If he thought one solitary angel was enough to finish you, your money was on foolish. A mere flex of your power and the threat would be gone. Turning your attention back to the ocean, you waited for him to speak. When he said nothing, you asked, “What’s your name? I should at least know the name of the one sent to kill me.”

Your question caught him off guard, surprise flashing across his face. He probably thought you meant to strike out at him as soon as he showed himself. “My name is of no importance.” His voice was soothing, completely at odds with the imposing figure he made, silhouetted by the growing shadows.

“Maybe not. Even so, I’d like to know the name of my executioner.”

He flinched at the title, which you thought unusual. What other word would describe him? Perhaps he was like all the other angels who came after you, the ones who thought of themselves as righteous heroes of Heaven, come to slay the wicked cambion. You’d run into plenty over the years, each determined to smite the abomination. Charred scorch marks in the shape of wings were all that remained of them.

“Well? You have a name, right?”

“Gadreel,” he finally answered uneasily, his grip on the angel blade tightening.

“Gadreel,” you repeated, rolling the word around on your tongue. “‘Wall of God’- I like it. Well, Gadreel, you can put that away. I’m not going to attack you- if I wanted you dead, you would be.”

“What game are you playing?” he asked, suspicious and curious.

“No games. I’m not going to fight you. All my life I’ve had to run and hide from you angels, and I just…can’t anymore,” you sighed. He advanced cautiously, still holding tight to the blade in his hand. With a bitter smile, you continued, “Today’s your lucky day, Gadreel. You’ll be known as the angel who took down the big, bad cambion. A real hero.”

He didn’t look any happier to be called a hero. On the contrary, his expression grew even more solemn. “I am no hero, make no mistake. Nor am I an executioner. I have been tasked with taking you to Heaven…by any means necessary.”

“Why? What difference does it make if I’m killed down here if all I face is a death sentence upstairs?”

That you were destined to die was a given. Heaven had made it perfectly plain that they considered you a monstrous creature who had no place among the living. The angels made your destruction a priority from the moment they’d discovered your existence, unwilling to believe you could be more than just a potential weapon for Hell to use against them.

“My instructions were clear,” he said, avoiding your question, “Metatron entrusted me with the task of taking you to Heaven. Will you come peacefully?”

“I’ve already told you I won’t put up a fight. I’ll go. But,” you added, “not until after sunset. Let me have one last sundown to remember.”

He studied you, an unusual look on his face as he considered your proposition. “After sundown then.”

“Thank you.”

For a long while, only the crash of the waves broke the silence, neither of you saying a word. The weight of his eyes was heavy on your back. You did your best to ignore it, storing away every last detail. The scent of salt and seaweed surrounded you, filling your lungs with clean air. The gulls gradually fell silent as the sky faded from fiery oranges and reds to soft pinks and vibrant purples. Tears stung your eyes, and you briskly wiped them away; no sense in crying now. This was the path you’d chosen.

“I’m sorry, but we must go now.”

As crazy as it sounded, you believed him. He was an odd one, this angel, certainly nothing like the ones who came before. It made it easier to forgive him.

“Just a few more minutes,” you pleaded softly, “just until the first stars come out.”

“…very well.”

The stoic angel at your back settled into silence, content to watch you watch the night sky come alive. The remote beach was far from civilization, with no light pollution to obstruct your view, leaving you free to marvel at the first blossoms of light to appear on that velvet backdrop. Faced with such a magnificent view, a part of you briefly considered going back on your word and fleeing, simply vanishing before he could grab you. It would be so easy, almost as easy as destroying him.

But there was no more fight left in you. A lifetime of running from Heaven- of fighting and hiding and killing- had left you drained. If Heaven wanted you that badly, they could have you. At least this way you could finally stop looking over your shoulder, always awaiting the next attack. So now, with the grim faced seraph calling himself Gadreel as your only companion, you watched the night sky come to life one last time.

“Okay, Gadreel. I’m ready now.”

He didn’t say a word, coming closer to lay a warm hand on your shoulder. The force of his grace prickled against your skin, sensing the tainted blood flowing in your veins. The demonic power that was your birthright shielding you from the worst of it. Strangely, you sensed him attempt to restrain his grace, as if reluctant to cause you even minor discomfort. Peculiar, considering he was escorting you to an almost certain death. The gesture was appreciated nevertheless.

Glancing back to meet his eyes, you wondered what was taking him so long to drag you off to Heaven. You wanted this over and done with before you lost your nerve and annihilated them all. Brow furrowed, he opened his mouth to speak, quickly shutting it again. The air around you pulsed with power as he prepared to take flight.

Catching his attention before he could whisk you away, you said, “Gadreel, when the time comes to…to do what you have to…don’t let them draw it out. Just…make it quick, okay?”

He looked troubled, something very much like guilt flashing across his face, gone in an instant. With a solemn nod, he said, “You have my word.”

“Good.”

Turning back to face the ocean, your last view of freedom was a field of stars blazing brightly in the blue-black sky. From one heartbeat to the next, you found yourself standing in a playground of all places, the swingset and monkey bars empty of children. Confused, you allowed Gadreel to lead you to a sandbox, stepping back in surprise when it lit up with the glow of divine light. His grip on you tightened, keeping you in place, and he guided you those last few steps.

It burned like cold fire, the heat and pressure of it like nothing you’d ever felt before. Pressing down on you from all sides, the divine light of Heaven’s pearly gates squeezed the air from your lungs, threatening to destroy you before the angels got the chance. And then it was gone. Bathed in that blinding light, you were stunned to see the outline of wings wrapped around you. Tattered though they were, they provided a shield of sorts, keeping you safe from the pain.  There was no time to question him before the light started to fade, taking that unbearable pressure with it.

He let his wings vanish with the light, revealing the cozy study where you’d landed. Apprehension rose in your belly at the sight of a multitude of angels surrounding the two of you, all with weapons drawn. They stared at you with murder in their eyes, hostility radiating from them. It was so different than how Gadreel had treated you thus far, and you found yourself shying closer to him as if for comfort. It wasn’t your imagination when he shifted closer to you as well, anxious to provide what solace he could under the circumstances.

“Well, I have to say I’m impressed, Gadreel,” a voice piped up from behind the wall of angels, “good job bringing the abomination into face judgement.”

The angels parted to allow one of their number through. He was…different, both from Gadreel and the others. Unarmed and unassuming, he didn’t look threatening in the least. But there was a menacing aura that surrounded him like a rank odor, the smirk on his face glittering with malice.

You didn’t need to be told he was the one in charge here; the way the other angels stood aside for him, and the manner in which he carried himself made that plain to see. Even Gadreel was a little cowed by him, shifting uneasily as the other drew closer. Instantly on guard, you refused to look away when he stepped into your personal space.

He came to a stop in front of you, looking you up and down with a vaguely curious expression. “So you’re the one causing all the fuss? I’m a little disappointed; for a cambion, I was expecting someone more intimidating.”

“Would you like me to apologize? Or perhaps give a little demonstration?” The words slipped out before you could think better of it, your tone laced with sarcasm. The angels bristled at the threat, save for Gadreel and the newcomer.

“That won’t be necessary,” he retorted, an oily smile blooming across his face. Rolling his eyes at the others, he snapped, “Oh calm down. Can’t any of you recognize a bluff when you hear one?”

His arrogance was starting to wear at your already thin nerves. “Quit grandstanding. If you’re going to kill me, get it over with.”

“Who said anything about killing you? No, that would be an enormous waste of resources- I have other plans for you.”

“What?” The question didn’t come from you. Breaking his silence for the first time since you’d landed in Heaven, Gadreel spoke, shifting uneasily beside you, “Metatron, what are you playing at?”

“That’s none of your concern,” Metatron said with an air of finality, “you just get our guest down to the dungeons; I trust you remember where they’re located. And once you’re done with that, I have another task for you.”

Turning his back in clear dismissal, he began issuing orders to the other angels as Gadreel led you away. Holding your head high, you ignored the glares, though it was a relief when the door of the study shut behind you. Just the two of you once more, you felt safe enough to risk speaking freely with Gadreel. “What’s going on? What does he want with me?”

“I do not know,” he answered, clearly apprehensive about the turn of events. “Metatron is cunning and not to be underestimated. It is why the angels have chosen him to be their leader.”

“But you have to at least suspect something,” you argued, “I thought you said he trusted you with this job, or whatever.”

“You are mistaken if you believe that means Metatron confides in me with all of his plans.”

“So you just…do what he says without question?” You stopped in your tracks, forcing Gadreel to turn and face you. “You realize how insane that sounds, right? That kind of blind loyalty is crazy.”

“I have faith Metatron will do as he promises and restore Heaven to its former glory. And when he does, I shall have cleared my name and assume my place among my brothers and sisters once more,” he replied, stubbornness and heat creeping into his tone for the first time. “I must believe that he will do what is best for Heaven.”

“And if he decides what’s best for Heaven is to torture me?” you asked softly. “You promised you would make it quick, Gadreel. You gave me your word.”

Gadreel didn’t have a response. Refusing to meet your eyes, he hustled you down the winding halls and white corridors of Heaven without another word. Your words had obviously struck a chord with the brooding angel. With every step, the temptation to resist grew stronger, your power pulsing with the desire to be used. A word from you and the entirety of the Host of Heaven would be obliterated.

But even though he was your executioner-turned-jailer, you found yourself reluctant to harm Gadreel unless absolutely necessary. Not to mention there was no way of knowing how an explosion of demonic energy would affect Heaven as a whole; innocent souls filled this place, of good people who had led good lives. And so you let him lead you to imprisonment, each heavy step a mirror for your thudding heartbeat.

The longer you walked, the grimmer your surroundings became. A door came into view, intimidating to behold: the door to Heaven’s dungeon. Breath coming quicker, you glanced at your companion, startled to see he was in a far worse state than you. Nervous sweat dotted his forehead, his lips pressed into a tight line, Gadreel looked completely different from the composed angel who’d first found you on that beach. With palpable reluctance, he reached out, using his grace to open the door and ushered you inside.

The slam of the door behind you made him flinch, barely subdued panic in his eyes. He stood rooted to the spot for several long moments, making no move to push you into one of the cells. With dawning suspicion, you thought back to what Metatron had told him, the snide remark that Gadreel should remember where the dungeons were located, the comment about ‘clearing his name’ making more sense. He knew the way so well because he’d once sat in one of these cells.

Anger flashed through you at Metatron’s cruelty. He had to have known what coming down here would do to Gadreel, how it would affect him. And though you were grateful it was him and not some less sympathetic angel, seeing Gadreel’s reaction made you wish you’d put on that little demonstration for Metatron after all. Demonic energy swirled through you, longing to be put to use in ripping Metatron’s grace from him.

Pushing down the urge, you placed a gentle hand on his arm. He jerked away from your touch, lost in memories. Realizing that more drastic measures would be needed, you took hold of his face, grace stinging your palms. Ignoring the bite of pain, you spoke calmly, coaxing him from whatever nightmare visions he was locked in.

The more cynical part of your mind marveled at having to soothe your captor, but you waved it away, focusing on the task at hand. Eventually, you succeeded in calming him down, his breathing gradually returning to normal. He still looked a little shaky, his vessel trembling under your touch. But it was a vast improvement; hesitant, you relaxed your hold on him.

Careful to keep your voice gentle, you asked, “You gonna be okay?”

“You…helped me. Why?” He looked dumbfounded, his brow furrowed with confusion.

“Because you needed it.”

He didn’t seem reassured by your answer, the look of confusion growing deeper. He stared at you for several long moments, as if attempting to puzzle out your motives. Ushering you into the first cell, he didn’t leave right away once the door swung shut. Separated by bars, you studied each other freely, the air between you heavy with tension. Opening his mouth to speak, he changed his mind and shut it just as quickly. Turning away, he headed for the door without a backward glance.

Alone, you watched with a strangely heavy heart as he stopped at the entry, speaking over his shoulder. “Thank you. For your kindness.”

“Remember your promise.”

The door swung shut with a loud thump, leaving you in solitude. Glancing around at the blank walls, you had never felt lonelier, left to stew with your thoughts. Whatever Metatron had planned for you couldn’t be pleasant, that was certain. Sitting on the low bench that was your only decoration, you curled in on yourself, resigned to your fate.

Time was meaningless in Heaven; it could have been hours, or even days, as you sat in your cell with nothing to break up the monotony. No one came to see you, not Gadreel or even Metatron, the stillness of the dungeon oppressive. There was no way of knowing how long you’d been waiting when a commotion sounded outside the door leading to the dungeons. Your head shot up at a quickly stifled cry, followed by the ever-present silence.

The door crept open. On your feet in an instant, you were relieved to see Gadreel in the doorway, two angels slumped on the floor behind him. Sealing the door shut with his grace behind him, he rushed over to your cell. Clearly agitated, he was deaf to your attempts to get his attention.

“Gadreel? What’s wrong, what’s going on?” He didn’t respond, so focused was he on keeping a tight grip on his own panic. It was only when you reached through the bars to grab hold of his jacket that you finally gained his notice. “What. Happened?”

With visible effort, he forced aside his anxiousness to focus on you. “We must flee.”

“What?”

“Metatron is not to be trusted. I had faith he would restore Heaven, but I was wrong. The things he has done, the things I have done for him…he must be stopped, especially now. He has informed me of his plans for you, and…” He went quiet, clearly disturbed by what he’d learned.

“And what, Gadreel?”

Pinning you down with a solemn expression, his eyes bore holes into yours. “He intends to siphon off your powers and use them to his own advantage.”

Jerking back in surprise, you asked, “Siphon them how?”

“…painfully.”

Death you could have handled; you were fully prepared to die when you allowed Gadreel to bring you to Heaven. But this? Your abilities used to fuel the egomania of the slimiest angel you’d ever had the misfortune of meeting? Never. There was no telling what someone like Metatron would do with your powers at his beck-and-call. “How do we get out of here?”

“Are you capable of breaking free of your cell? I can get us out of Heaven, but the cell-“

“This cell was made to hold an angel, not something like me,” you interrupted. “But, Gadreel, what about taking your place with your brothers and sisters? If you help me escape-”

“There are more important matters to consider,” he interrupted, glancing nervously at the door. “We must not delay; it is only a matter of time before Metatron realizes I am here with you.”

“You’re sure about this? As soon as we bust out of here, Metatron  _will_  come after us, you know that.”

“He will,” Gadreel confirmed, the resolve in his eyes undimmed, “which is why the fight must be brought to him.”

“…what are you suggesting?”

“I know someone who will help us bring him down, someone who fights him even now.”

“Who? Gadreel, where are we going?”

“To my brother. To Castiel.”

“Hang on,” you said, your grip on his sleeves tightening. “Why can’t we just run? I can keep us safe, hidden. No one will find us.”

“Because,” he said with gentle determination, “my family is in danger and it is partly my doing. I must set things right. But that doesn’t mean you must fight this battle as well. Once we are back on Earth, you will be free to do as you wish…I will not be you jailer. Not again, not ever.”

It was tempting, the out he was giving you. The idea of fighting for Heaven, of helping this ‘Castiel’ win his war did not appeal to you in the least. Running and hiding would keep you alive while the angels killed each other off. There was certainly no love lost between you and the Host; letting them annihilate each other would make your life so much easier.

But just as quickly as the thought came, you dismissed it; hiding away alone was what you’d done all your life. Yes you would be safe, but at what expense? Gadreel was the closest thing you’d ever had to a friend, and he was determined to see this war through to the end. In your experience, that zealousness got people killed. If you wanted to keep him alive, your choice was clear.

Decision made, you asked seriously, “Can he be trusted?”

“I would trust Castiel with my life.”

“But would you trust him with mine? Because I need to know here and now if he’s going to try to kill me on sight.”

Gadreel took your hands in his, a wide range of emotions flashing across his face, too quickly for you to discern them all. Locking eyes with you, he seemed to stare into your very heart and soul. Voice strong and sure, he said, “Castiel is an honorable angel, and will not attack unless provoked. And even should he try…I will allow no harm to come to you.”

You didn’t dare examine too closely the way your heart fluttered at his words. Even though you were perfectly capable of handling one lone angel, the fact that Gadreel was willing to protect you from his own kind…well, you were touched, to say the least. Nodding in agreement, you gently extracted yourself from his hold. Stepping back, you instructed him to stand aside and shield himself. His eyes didn’t leave you until absolutely necessary.

Waiting until he was huddled by the furthest cell, you focused on the bars holding you prisoner, bringing your powers to bear on them. At first there was no change, but slowly you felt miniscule cracks appear along the length of the bars, the divine energy in them giving way to you. It fought you, but was no match for the strength born of your unholy heritage. Small cracks expanded, growing larger and larger, pushed to the breaking point.

With an echoing boom, the cell bars exploded, dust and debris filling the air. Immediately, an alarm sounded, the piercing wail of it ringing in your ears. Darting forward, you nearly crashed into Gadreel as he rushed to your side. The door to the dungeon burst open, a dozen angels streaming inside. You froze them in place with a wave of your hand, ignoring their feeble struggles to break free.

Gadreel wrapped his arms and wings around you, preparing to take flight. Shielded from the celestial light of Heaven’s gateway, you clung to him, burying your face in his jacket. Safe in his embrace, you knew your fight was just beginning. Part of you rebelled against the idea of more fighting, more killing, but a single glance at the angel in front of you quelled it. Your destinies were entwined now, come what may.


End file.
